InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "My bologna has a first name..."

Sherlock Holmes (ifimnothungry) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-09-10 00:18:00

Entry tags:

clint barton, sherlock holmes

WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Clint Barton
WHAT: Coming face to face with his brother's personal assassin wasn't the best way to start a morning, but it was certainly invigorating.
WHEN: September 10th; Morning
WHERE: Joch yn y Tywyllwch
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Caffeine was one of the few vices of Sherlock's that nobody insisted on depriving him of. In fact, many had often said if it allowed him to survive without the others, that he was more than welcome to indulge just as often as he liked. Coffee, while never his beverage of choice, offered exactly the sort of indulgence that he needed that morning, feeling overly drained from the restrictions placed on them by their holy overlord, particularly the restrictions on being able to see his very real, very lovely live in (well, all right, he lived in with her) girlfriend while they were occupying (presumably) the very same room. He'd left early that morning, intent that the lab was a much better place from him to stay during the day because even if he didn't have any specific work to do, he could still see everyone there. Much like he could see everyone here. Having a limited number of individuals from his reality here did work out in a slightly beneficial way when these sort of things came along, but that didn't mean it didn't bother him to not be able to talk to his brother or see Irene like he wanted to. Even if he couldn't imagine what it must be like for people who has nearly their entire cohort here and were cut off.

Like the man that had just stepped in the door, in fact. Sherlock's attention was drawn across the room as the little bell gave a signaling ding of a new patron. He always moved to inspect them whenever they entered. Morning people were always the most interesting, those ones with that extra bit of determination in their step, and a wash of intentions that the others didn't always carry around. This patron, however, was more familiar than the other locals that wandered into the shop, and while they certainly hadn't met in person, Sherlock knew him more than by reputation.

After all, it wasn't every day that Mycroft put a professional assassin on his payroll.

"Holmes," His name was called by the barista behind the counter, and reaching up to take his cup, reclined against the counter, eyes pinned on the man across the room, sweeping over each details from his clothing and appearance (working out, jogging, most likely) before his eyes paused and lingered on the artificial appendage, his gut knotting for a long moment as he was viscerally reminded of just what and why had caused the archer to come into possession on the limb. Sherlock couldn't help but feel a little (well, a lot) responsible. After all, it had been him that Mycroft had been aiming to protect by murdering Moriarty. And instead, this man had taken the brunt of the hit instead.

That thought coupled with the feelings that were steadily becoming more familiar and much easier for him to name caused Sherlock to duck his gaze, eyes dropping to the lid of his coffee cup before he took a long, lingering sip in an attempt to calm his buzzing mind. Not that he could divert his eyes for too long because the archer made for an intriguing puzzle. There was a lot there that Sherlock couldn't quite break just from a swift glance at him in his workout clothes, and yet, he still wanted to know.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

tobeunmade
2012-09-18 04:24 am UTC (link)

"You're right," Clint said, giving a snort of amusement. "That would be much worse. Not that I have much room to talk. Clinton Francis Barton isn't exactly the best name to have if you don't want to get your ass kicked." He'd learned to go by Clint at a young age, and to avoid mentioning his middle name if at all possible. The other boys in the children's homes hadn't exactly been the most compassionate individuals, made hard way too young by the lives they lived. He couldn't really blame them. He'd been pretty much the same for a while there.

"It happens," he said with a shrug. "People tend to assume the more 'obvious' answer. Hell, he spent a good month convinced I wouldn't be interested because he assumed I was strictly heterosexual. Guessing the wrong gender based on a coffee order isn't exactly the worst mistake a guy can make." Picking up the macchiato, he took a long sip and gave a pleased hum, not commenting on the fact that he was fairly sure Sherlock had thought the coffee was for him and the more stereotypically feminine drink was for his significant other, even after finding out said other was a man. Because he was overtly masculine and people assumed what seemed most obvious. Even genius detectives.

Glancing around the room for a topic of conversation, his eyes took in several things of interest. He wasn't called Hawkeye just because he made impossible shots. He was observant, and there was a lot to observe this morning. "Oh that's awkward," he said, gesturing slightly with his head at a couple in the corner. "They've just started sleeping together. She thinks it's going well, he's already looking for a way out. He wants to break it to her in public, because he thinks it'll avoid a scene, but he's going to have her latte in his lap in two minutes, give or take."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

ifimnothungry
2012-09-18 04:59 am UTC (link)

There was a strong look of 'impressed' in Sherlock's eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder at the couple. He'd stopped the tension in the man on his first pass through, figured that it was relationship related, but he hadn't focused too much on them after that. But now that he was, he could see each of the little signs. He'd heard that Clint was observant, but he had figured that meant just as observant as a weapon hand needed to be. Sherlock really should have known better than to assume that his brother would hire a lethal weapon without strong controlling facilities on the other end. "He really should have known better. All public does is invite an audience," Sherlock said, sipping his own coffee before turning his gaze back to Clint with a hint of a smile.

"And is rather more a pattern with me. Sometimes the simplest solution isn't always the right one," Sherlock said with a bit of a shrug. "But when you go with the long odds, especially with the easy stuff, it's much more likely to be wrong." After all, when one only has so many facts to go on, you just have to rely own tradition and behavior patterns to fill in the gaps. It was too bad that those were harder to track nowadays than they used to be.

"And... Francis?" Sherlock repeated after a moment, giving Clint a long long before grinning. "I suppose you're lucky that middle names aren't used much day to day."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

tobeunmade
2012-09-18 05:49 am UTC (link)

"Exactly," Clint said, his eyes still on the couple, nodding at the turn the conversation was taking and how the woman was starting to look more and more distressed as the man spoke. "It's obvious that girl's the dramatic type. It was just poor planning on his part. Not that there's any way he could have got out of it clean." He tilted his head. "He was drunk. She thought it really meant something. He's actually interested in her...friend, I think. Maybe her sister. This, children, is why you should never drink too much. You end up in bed with a crazy person." It was sort of nice, being able to just talk like this and not have the other person roll their eyes or look at him funny. Not that Canton would have done either. He was pretty sure he'd have been dragged out of the shop, or possibly to the restroom, to make out if it was Canton. The whole competence attraction seemed to go both ways with them. He definitely wasn't complaining about that.

"I get that," Clint said. "My problem is less...that, and more...I'm terrible when it comes to people I actually know most of the time. I..." he paused before he went with his default explanation. "I see better from a distance, I guess you could say. It's easier when there's a level of emotional detachment. It helps keep things objective." He shrugged. "Strangers though," he paused as the girl dumped her drink on the guy right on schedule. "They're easy, most of the time." He nodded his head toward another woman. "She just found out she's pregnant. She's a regular here, always drinks espresso. Very high strung. She's drinking tea today. She's convinced coffee would be bad for the baby and...like I said...high strung. She's going to go all out on that. The caffeine withdrawal won't be pretty." He grinned. "And that girl on the wall thinks your skinny, awkward hipster look is hot. She keeps licking her lips whenever you look her direction."

He stopped. "Clinton really wasn't much better," he said with a shrug. "I'm from Iowa...it wasn't exactly...I guess it was a family name. Or something? I'm not sure. I was pretty young when my parents died. Never exactly thought to ask them, and then they weren't there to ask." He looked down at the coffee. "I should probably get going before this gets cold. He probably won't be thrilled with cold coffee." He paused. "If you're going the same way, I wouldn't say no to company on the walk."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

ifimnothungry
2012-09-24 01:38 am UTC (link)

Sherlock traced his own gaze about the crowd, lingering briefly on the one that Clint had pointed out as finding his looking appealing and being momentarily alarmed that he'd missed such obvious displays. Especially as it seemed to only worsen now that his gaze had lingered for more than a moment. Ducking his head and clearing his throat, Sherlock turned back to Clint before offering him an expression that was unusually understanding for him, "Concern for someone's well being does complicate matters," He said, thinking back on the times where he'd pointed out the plainly obvious to Molly or Lestrade in hopes of helping them affect some necessary change in their lives only to be shut down. Sometimes people didn't want to hear the truth, no matter how much they needed to. "Though, it has always made reading someone easier for me." Just more painful when the revelations garnered were not particularly positive.

"I do suppose Americans have different standards of naming. Clinton could easily fit you in with the Eaton crowd back home," Sherlock said, not really sure how or if he should comment on the information about the parents. In the end, he figured glossing over it would likely be best. "I would say family name is a decent enough assumption. Unless they were training you up to be one of the Oxbridge boys."

Sherlock paused when Clint said that he needed to get back, mentally going over the Colligo road map in his mind before giving the other man a nod, "I can get there from that direction. If you're sure that you wouldn't mind." Someone unfamiliar being willing to talk to him was still a sensation that Sherlock was adapting to. Though, it was getting easier now that he'd been here long enough to actually start making friends.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

(Read comments) -